


Of Shadows and Daggers

by koolkidasaurus



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, F/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Thieves Guild, Two Dragonborns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-01 01:06:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4000132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koolkidasaurus/pseuds/koolkidasaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Street rat. Trouble. A nuisance. These were all things that Rose was used to being called. But when she wakes up on her way to the chopping block, fate decides to throw her a new moniker. Dragonborn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I. As far back as Rose could remember, she had been on her own. She had always been a Riften gutter-rat, and at her mature age of nine, she saw no hope of that changing. She didn't want it to change, since the alternative was Honorhall, or as the other street rats called it, Oblivionhall. It was no secret amongst all the orphans of Skyrim that the old lady that ran the place was as mean and evil as it got. Rose had heard rumor of a torture chamber hidden inside where the outside adults couldn't find it. Word was that there didn't need to be an offense committed to be sentenced there. Honorhall was a worse sentence than that Cihdna Mine that she had heard of. Which was why it was such a challenge to get away with surviving. She begged when she knew she wouldn't be turned in, and stole when she couldn't beg. She had her favorites to beg from, and knew to avoid the Black-Briars like the plague. Boli would sometimes give her food when she begged from him, where as Madesi would give her a cheap gem or bauble to hack for some money. But her favorite person in all of Riften (which was her whole world) was that Brynjolf. The red-haired Nord had been a gutter-rat like her when he was a kid, and he always gave her the best advice. He taught her how to cut the stings of coin purses from unsuspecting travelers and how to milk the most out of her begging. He was the one who gave her the name Rose, after hearing Boli tell her that she was pretty as a rose.

 

 

II. When Rose turned thirteen, Bryn let her help him out as his stall. He would grab everyone's attention by hawking some useless junk and she would move through the crowd, cutting purses and begging a few gold coins out of the crowd. It didn't take long for them to develop a system and within the year he started asking her opinions on things. It made her feel grown-up and important. Bryn was the closest thing she had to family, though she would cart herself to Honorhall before she ever admitted that out loud. Her reputation couldn't afford her going soft like that. Eventually she got to meet some of the Thieves Guild, even though she was too young to officially join them. Niruin taught her some bow work and Rune would entertain her with stories from before the Guild started falling apart while she would sit in the Ragged Flaggon and drink it all up. One day, she vowed, she would be a part of this. All the while, she grew taller and came to be beautiful. Niruin's friendliness turned to flirtations and Boli became someone to avoid unless Brynjolf was around. She didn't know what they saw in her. When she looked at her reflection in the canals, all she saw was a twisted mix of Bosmer and who knew what else. With her large eyes and sharp features there was no denying her mer heritage, but there was something else in her face that marked her as different than Niruin and the other Bosmer that had recently moved in. When she had the chance, she would always pull her mud-brown hair away from her face and try to figure it out. Everyone mistook it for vanity and the Pretty Little Rose moniker became ever harder to shake.

 

 

III. With her seventeenth birthday, she had expected to be finally welcomed into the Guild. But Brynjolf insisted that the timing wasn't right. She thought that he was being too over-protective. He told her that she wasn’t ready yet. She had to find out from Niruin, whom she had started to become infatuated with, that it was Mercer's fault. The Guild Master thought that some piece of gutter trash would be a waste of Guild resources. She thought that the Guild Master needed a good thrashing. But she kept this thought to herself. By now, she could con the citizens of Riften as well as Brynjolf could and had taken to holding down the fort while he was busy with Guild business. And since she was easier on the eyes she brought in much more coin than he did. Things would have been better if she had a bed to call her own in the Cistern, instead of the damp, moldy pile of hay and furs that she had fought for in the Warrens, but she had food in her belly and didn't have to worry about being carted off for the crime of being a child on her own. Actual crimes were much easier to get away with. Even if Maven Black-Briar hated her with a passion and was always looking for ways to get rid of her. She had found out the hard way that all she had to do was bat her eyes at the guards and feign innocence and they would let her go. It worked like a charm. Everything in her short-life was starting to line up perfectly. Until it wasn't.  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

Rose had figured it would only be a matter of time before someone (*cough* Maven Black-Briar *cough*) tried to have her killed. She was just surprised that instead of being taken out by the Dark Brotherhood, she was being sent to be executed along side Ulfric Stormcloak. The tall Nord looked down at her the entire cart ride while his soldier tried to keep a friendly conversation going. Rose didn't see the point in that-- they were going to die, why try making friendsnow? But she kept her mouth shut on the matter and tried to find a way out of this. It wasn't like she was going to let Maven win. And she knew that it had to be that bitch behind this. Who else had the power and authority to swipe her from her hay-pile in the Ratway where she had last fallen asleep and put her on a cart on her way to be executed by Imperial soldiers? And who else wanted her out of the way that badly? Really, she didn't know what Maven's problem with her was, but as far back as she could remember there had always been animosity. Bryn had thought that she was being silly and always shut her theories down. This would show him, she thought. She hoped that he felt like an idiot as he mourned her. Niruin, as always, had been way more supportive of her, but he too had made her keep her thoughts to herself. Rose had never seen any reason to fear the Black-Briars, but maybe that was why she was now on her way to her death at their hands.

When the cart stopped, she remained unsurprised to find that her name wasn't on the Imperials' lists. And she was even less shocked by the would-be horse thief that got himself killed. Really, she internally scoffed, such incompetence. Even the suicidally brash Stormcloak didn't faze her. But when it came time for her to kneel down in his blood to have her own brush with death (she was totally coming back to haunt that bitch), she found all of her resignation slip away. She didn't want to die yet, she thought as she watched the headsman lift the ax over his head. She hadn't even become an official member of the Guild yet. There was still so much to do! She hadn't even kissed Niruin yet! She forced herself to calm down, pretended that it was all apart of some major con and soon Bryn would come out with the gobs of coin that they had earned. Rose closed her eyes as the ax was brought down. And immediately regretted it as all Oblivion broke loose and she completely missed it.

The blow never came. What did come instead was a blast of she didn't even know what that nearly knocked her unconscious. She unsteadily made her way to her feet, clamoring up with much difficulty as her hands were still bound as the Imperial General cursed up a storm not far from her. She looked up to find what had caused all of this commotion and felt her knees go weak again. A dragon. A real living breathing dragon. It locked eyes with her for a brief moment before letting out a volley of fire at the frantic soldiers. Rose could feel the demented smile that was stuck to her face, but as she tried to take a step towards it, something latched onto her and dragged her back. She turned to find that the blond Stormcloak from her cart was dragging her away, shouting something about safety and cover. But her senses were still dulled from whatever the dragon-- her dragon!-- had done and she had some difficulty making out his words. She let him drag her into the safety of a near-by tower where a heavy door was barred shut, blocking her from the amazing beast. The building was full of Stormcloaks, injured and dying and everything in between, and Ulfric fucking Stormcloak himself was there herding them up through the tower. But it was blocked off and the men trying to clear the way met a tragic end as the dragon came crashing through the solid stone wall. He burned the remaining bodies up there before making eye contact with her again and flying off. Encouraged by her fiendish rescuer, she bounded up the remaining steps to the tower's new window. Ralof tried giving her instructions on how to get through, but she had been trained by the best and already saw the exit plan. She leapt through the hole and landed hard in the Inn's second story. The building swayed from her impact and she hurried through like the gutter-rat that she was.

"You're still alive prisoner?" The Imperial soldier from before asked as she landed next to him, lithe as a cat. "Stay with me if you want to stay that way."

Well, she thought, this was a nice turn of events. She let him lead her through the now thoroughly destroyed town before they crouched down next to a stone wall that was still whole. The dragon landed hard above them, one wing extended down to shield her from the volley of arrows that assaulted it. It was so close that she could touch it. Unable to help herself, she ran a finger lightly over the surprisingly smooth scales. This caught the attention of the dragon and he glanced down at her before taking off again. This was amazing, she thought. She should get herself in near-death situations more often.

 

* * *

 

 

Rose nearly collapsed against the rough stone pillar, accepting her blessing from above in a nearly unconscious state of being. Dragons she could handle. Rebels who wanted to kill her just for not being on their side? Not so much. Her side was sore from where she had taken an arrow and the dried blood made her new Imperial armor stick to the wound. Hadvar waited patiently for her to accept the blessing, blathering on about some barrow that gave him nightmares as a child. At least he had a bed to sleep in, she thought bitterly, though she did not voice it, instead nodding at him like she gave a damn. Play nice, she reminded herself. He was getting her a free bed for the night, and possibly food. She had learned early on to not mouth off to people who were giving her free things. Unless, of course, there were strings attached to those free things.

And of course there were strings attached to these free things, though explaining the current situation to a Jarl was high on the list of not so bad strings. After a scalding hot bath and a only slightly less hot meal, she was given a bed next to the little girl. They even let her take some things with her, like all the money that they had lying around. Though weapons apparently didn't count (didn't stop her, though). It was the best night's sleep she had ever had, which was saying something since she kept being awoken by horrible nightmares. Maybe Hadvar had been on to something. She slipped out early the next morning, after another bath and another hot meal, with a fresh set of clothes and armor. The early morning air was crisp and the sky clear and for the first time in as long as she could remember, Rose felt optimistic. She had never left Riften before. The road was easy enough to follow, with no trouble at all from any bandits, or any of the other things the guys had warned her of. She even smiled as she walked, humming some tune that she couldn't place as she set her pace, wandering down the lonesome road. Her mind drifted to the Guild and what her friends must be thinking. She had been gone for over a week, she had learned, much longer than it took to wind up dead. She missed them, she realized as she past the first building she had seen since leaving Riverwood. As soon as she was done with this Jarl crap she was going back. Maybe her having survived a dragon attack would prove to them that she could handle the Big Times.

The gate guards tried to stop her from entering, but as soon as the word dragon was out of her mouth, they let her in. Maybe she could use this whole survivor thing as currency. Add it to her begging routine. Please, sir, spare a coin for a dragon victim? She could even make herself look burned and injured. Folks loved to give money to the down-trodden and pat themselves on the back for being Good People. Rose rolled her eyes at the thought as she past through the city of Whiterun. It was much cleaner here, and it lacked a certain stench of corruption. She didn't like it, she decided as she passed the town beggar, who was much cleaner and better fed than she had ever been. The tree was depressing, though, so at least there was something almost familiar about the city. But the priest grated her nerves. It was only a matter of time before someone called up the Dark Brotherhood or notified the Thalmor, she thought as he droned on about how horrible the Evil Elves were. His voice followed her all the way up the steps that lead to the imposing Dragonsreach. So maybe Whiterun did have something that Riften didn't. And it came in the form of the epic keep. Unable to tear her eyes away from the architecture, she stumbled through the doors.

 

* * *

 

 

The urge to wipe that smug look off of the mage's face was nearly over-whelming. If he insinuated that she was an idiot one more time, just one more fucking time... Rose balled her hands into fists, acutely aware of the Jarl standing over her shoulder.

"What exactly does this have to do with dragons?" she asked, cutting straight to the point. If he was going to send her on stupid errands, then he was going to damn well give her a good reason for it.

"Well, everything," he answered as if she was a child. "The Dragonstone is an ancient map of the old dragon burial sights. Its hidden away somewhere in Bleak Falls Barrow. Go to the barrow, find the Dragonstone, and bring it back here. Simplicity itself. Even someone like you could do this."

She bit her tongue to keep from saying something she would regret. Just pretend its a con, she thought. Keep your head, don't get worked up. You don't get the goods if you get kicked out of the city. Though what goods she was going to get in return she had no idea. She hoped it was money. If they didn't compensate her for this pointless errand, then she was setting the Keep on fire.

Rose left quickly after ending that conversation, scurrying through the busy city. She stuck to the shadows, avoiding everyone that she could, if just purely out of habit. Plus, it occurred to her, it would probably be a good idea to lay low until she could get the Guild's protection. One never knew who exactly was in Maven's coin purse, after all. She snuck out of the city, riding a rush of adrenaline that she was sure would be even stronger if she had actually committed a crime. The sun was blazing high above her by the time she found the correct trail. She wasn't prepared for the bandits, but all of the training that she had received from Niruin kicked in and she sniped them out from where she was hiding in the shadows. Looting the tower provided less than she had been hoping for, so she quickly made her way up the path to the barrow. Several bandits, one giant frostbite spider, and ohdeargodswhy draugr later, she found herself standing in front of an odd door, a heavy golden dragon claw in her hand. The marks in the palm seemed to match the ones on the door, so she used that as her guide to get the damned door open. The door slid open and Rose ducked back down into a crouch. She scurried through the cavernous room like a rat, keeping to the shadows, though there appeared to be no other obstacles. She didn't dare drop her guard, though.

The chanting started out as a soft hiss before working its way up to a deafening roar as she approached the odd wall in the back of the chamber. There was a coffin on the middle of the platform that she gave a wide berth as she stumbled over, caught like a moth to a flame. Her vision blurred and she nearly collapsed against the wall, her head pounding with the odd chants. The scratches on the wall made no sense to her, but for the one word that jumped out at her. Fus. She had no idea what it meant, but the word stuck with her, imprinting itself in her mind. She really hoped that she wasn't going crazy. But before she could dare stop and actually think about what was happening, the lid of the coffin flew off and landed several feet away, crumbling to dust at the impact. Rose notched an arrow and crouch down into the shadows, unloading into the draugr's chest before it had even finished standing up. Unlike the ones before it, though, it did not go down so easily. She let loose another arrow, and then another, before it finally collapsed. Rose slid down the strange wall, her heart thudding in her ears. She was definitely going to have to thank Niruin for all of his training.

Despite her run of bad luck so far, she found the Dragonstone on the draugr's corpse (the corpse's corpse?) and, after looting the entire room, slunk out through the super secret exit. Her head was still pounding as she carefully made her way down the mountain, that one word repeating itself over and over. Fus. She had no idea what language it even was, or if it was even a real word, but there was something about it, the feel of it, that she liked. She said it out loud, trying it on for size so to speak, and smiled. There was a certain force to it that she liked. A certain power hidden just bellow the surface.

"Fus!" She said again, giggling a little maniacally as she stumbled down the mountain trail.

It was dark by the time she reached Riverwood and the Riverwood Trader was just closing down as she walked in to sell off the junk that she had collected in the barrow. The owner was in the middle of an argument with some woman when she approached the counter, though he quickly broke off after she cleared her voice, clearly embarrassed.

"I don't know what you may have heard," he stuttered, doing his best to give her a welcoming smile, "but the Riverwood Trader is open for business."

"Did something happen?" Rose asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Yes, we had a bit of a... break-in," the Imperial said, casting his gaze to an empty space on the counter. "An ornament, solid gold, shaped like a dragon's claw. It was the only thing that the bandits were interested in."

Well, Rose thought, that was disapointig. She had been planning on selling the thing to Delvin or Tonillia but instead found herself digging it out of her pack and placing it on the worn wooden counter. What am I doing, she thought as she gave the man a mischievous smile.

"You mean this?" She asked, thoroughly enjoying the shocked expressions on the two.

"I... Yes! That's it! How did you find this?" He cheered as he scooped it up. "Strange, it looks smaller than I remember."

Rose shrugged that off as he handed her a rather large purse of gold. Delvin probably would have paid more, but it was still nice to hear the clink of the coins as she bounced it up and down in her hand. She sold the useless junk she had grabbed in the crypt and nearly skipped out the door, her pockets much lighter and her purse much heavier.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose hummed to herself as she waltzed into Dragonsreach, the stone tucked under her arm, proudly on display for all to see. _Yeah_ , she thought as a guard watched her go by, _I did this_. She was feeling rather proud of herself, a feeling that was compounded by the fact that she was finally out of Riften and quite swimming in gold. She had even given the beggar a coin for good luck, she was in that high of spirits. It was too bad that she had to go deal with that jerk-face of a wizard. He was busy when she walked into his quarters, deep in conversation with a mysterious hooded woman. Her voice was familiar, and she was rather short, but Rose couldn't quite place her. Had she done business in Riften? Or had she met her briefly in her short time in Whiterun Hold? Before she could place her voice, she looked up, taking notice of Rose skulking in the shadow of the door.

"You have a visitor," the woman said, nodding in her direction.

Farengar glanced up, his hood falling back to reveal a set of disastrous red mutton chops. _Ew_ , Rose thought as she stepped up to the table. She dropped the stone on the table, giving Farengar an expectant look. She was _not_ doing this for free.

"Ah," he exclaimed, "the Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow! Seems you are a cut above the usual brutes the Jarl sends my way. My... associate here will be pleased with your work."

The stranger gave her an appraising look. "You went into Bleak Falls Barrow and got that? Nice work." She turned back to Farengar. "Just give me a copy when you've deciphered it."

She left quickly, leaving Rose alone with the insufferable prick.

"My payment?" Rose prompted, trying her best to look intimidating. She leaned back against a nearby column and crossed her arms over her chest, flexing her muscles that had been honed by years of bow work.

Farengar waved her off, his attention already consumed by the Dragonstone. "I'm sure the Jarl will take care of that."

Rose's temper flared, but before she could say anything, the Jarl's housecarl came running in. Her red eyes were bright with excitement and she was breathing hard.

"Farengar, come quick! A dragon has been spotted by the Western Watchtower. The Jarl has asked for you." She caught sight of Rose watching her with curiosity. "You'd better come to, since you have the most experience here with dragons."

She failed to see how running for her life while everyone around her was slaughtered counted as experience, but she held her tongue. What if it was her dragon? He had been heading this way. Excitement flooded through her at the prospect of seeing him again. _Fus_ , she thought. Now there was a force to be reckoned with. She dutifully trailed behind the dunmer warrior, up the stairs and deeper into the heart of Dragonsreach. A guard was up there with the Jarl, briefing him on the dragon sighting, when she finally got to the top. After a quick briefing, and some pleading on the Jarl's part, they were off to fight the damned dragon. Rose wanted it to be her dragon, so that he could scoop her up and take her away from these horrible people. Maybe they could go explore all of Tamriel together. Or maybe she could get him to burn down Maven Black-Briar's estate. The Jarl, of course, did not pay her in gold, rather gifting her a set of armor that was worth less than she felt she deserved to be paid. She did have to fight threw quite a bit of draugr, after all.

As she approached the Western Watchtower, the only remaining guard called out to her to turn back. She didn't heed his advice, instead choosing to join him on the ramparts, and arrow nocked on her bow. And with good timing, too, as the dragon was quickly approaching the tower again. Rose was disappointed that it wasn't her dragon; this one was smaller and of a different color, its horns and tail shaped differently. She wondered if her dragon would fight this one for her if he was around. The battle was quick, though not without casualties. Rose jumped down from the ramparts, twisting her ankle as she landed, and limped over to the corpse of the dragon. It seemed a sad thing, until the body started going up in flames. The Dunmer, Irileth, cried out for her to get back, but she found that she couldn't move. She watched, transfixed, as the flames licked at the dragon before it began to glow orange. The next few moments were a blur of noise and light and confusion that left her on her knees, retching. Above her, the guards argued about something to do with Dragonborns, but she failed to see how dead Emperors fitted into this situation.

"Can you do it?" A guard asked as he helped her to her feet.

She wiped at her mouth with a shaking hand. "Do what?"

"Shout, like a dragon. Try it."

He took a step back and while Rose wanted to argue that she had no idea what he was talking about, she realized that she did. _Fus_ , she thought. A force that cannot be stopped. She saw herself as a dragon, saw the powerful _Force_ ripping through her throat and understood. She turned away from the watching guard and, with a deep breath, Shouted. The Thu'um tore through her, leaving her throat raw, but there was a certain exhilaration thrumming through her veins. What had she just done? What had she just become? After a brief conversation with Irileth, she was sent on her mery way to inform the Jarl of what had happened. But before she even reached the city gates, the ground shook and thunder rocked the air. A word, one that she was not entirely familiar with, thundered all around her, leaving her even more disoriented in her current state.

 

* * *

 

 

 _Dragonborn_. Rose was _Dragonborn_. _No effing way_ , she thought as she trudged down the road to Riften. She didn't care if no one kept the Greybeards waiting. She would and no one could stop her. Not even the housecarl nagging at her every step. The only good thing about Lydia was that she could have the woman carry her things for her. And that she knew the lay of the land, suggesting they go through the mountain pass to get to the Rift, instead of taking the winding road that lead through all sorts of bandit traps. Rose hated bandits, even if her dealings with them had been very few. They had no sense of honor, no code that they lived by. At least the Thieves Guild shed no blood and protected their own. She wondered what Bryn would say to her being the legendary Dragonborn. He would probably laugh at her and tell her to be serious. She missed him, and every step forwards was another step closer to her defunct family. She couldn't wait to tell Niruin about shooting the dragon out of the sky, or Rune about the giant dead tree in the middle of Whiterun, or to be lulled into a story by Delvin. Of course, his storied had been getting fewer and fewer since she wasn't a kid anymore. But her heart ached for them. Which brought her to the problem of how she was going to get Lydia off her back while she hit the Flagon; she didn't think the older woman would approve of her aspirations.

"Look," the shield-maiden said, pointing down a split in the rough road, "Ivarstead is that way."

"Goodie," Rose shot back of her shoulder, shooting the woman a glare. "But I told you, we aren't going to Ivarstead. We aren't going to High Hrothgar, at least not until I see my family."

Lydia's face softened at that and Rose hated her for it. She knew that she was young, but she was a legal adult and she was as tough as they came. She didn't need anyone's pity. Especially not her new housecarl. Rose put forth a burst of speed, nearly jogging down the road to put some distance between herself and Lydia. A few hours later, she could see the towering stone walls of the Keep and broke into a run. She skidded to a halt in front of the gate guard and looked up at him expectantly.

"All visitors must enter through the North Gate," he told her in a bored tone, instantly dismissing her.

"But I ain't no visitor," she shot back, knowing exactly what he was doing. "I'ma bona-fied gutter rat. Let me in, you hoodlum."

He scoffed at her, towering over her in a way that was supposed to be intimidating. "North Gate, or no entry."

Rose went to insult him, but Lydia pulled her back, apologizing to the guard. "We will go to the North Gate," she said, giving him a bright smile before dragging Rose around the entirety of Riften.

These guards sneered at her as they approached. Lydia took the lead, flashing more smiles that were probably meant to be disarming as she stepped up to the Gate.

"Halt," the guard on the right said, holding up a hand. "If you want to enter the city, you must pay the visitors tax."

"Tax?" Rose echoed as she fingered the dagger at her hip. "What tax?"

The guard, who she was certain was rolling his eyes at her, even if she couldn't see his face, turned towards her. "For the privilege of entering the city. It's 200 gold."

Rose balled her fists, stomping past the guards. "This is obviously a shake down," she seethed. "Don't take me for a damn fool."

The guard, in typical guard fashion, backed down from the possible fight. He let them in, begging her to keep her mouth shut, and Rose stepped through the gates, inhaling deeply at the sharp, earthy scent of rot in the air. It felt good to be home. The boardwalks were thick with the mid-morning mist and she could hear the water rushing through the canals below. With what was probably a manic smile on her face, she brushed past Maul, who wore an expression of dour shock, which only served to solidify her theory that it was Maven who got her sent to the block. Sapphire was equally shocked to see her, though she gave the girl a tight smile before continuing her tirade against the poor stable hand. But the sight that made her heart soar like a dragon was Brynjolf manning his stall. He stopped when he caught sight of her, putting down whatever brew he was selling before he sauntered over to her. He appeared calm and collected, but Rose knew him well enough to see the quickened pace, the look in his eye that would have guaranteed her a massive hug if they were the type of people to do that. She felt herself immediately shift into her thief persona, all hunched shoulders and attitude, though the bright, wide smile she wore stayed in place.

"Well, lass," Brynjolf said as he approached her, "aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

"Hi, Bryn," she replied, wanting to gush to him about everything that she had been through. But this was neither the time nor the place. "I was right."

"Oh?" He asked with a raised brow. "About what?"

She gave him a mischievous smile. "Perhaps we can talk about that later. The past few days have seen me nearly killed several times over and I want to enjoy being home."

"Then perhaps you could help me with a little job," he suggested, taking her arm and leading her around the market.

"Will this little job guarantee me a bigger, more permanent job?" She asked innocently as she cut the purse of a rich visitor that had stumbled past, clearly here for a wedding if his drunken state was anything to go by.

"You've still got the touch, I see." He answered instead, gracefully avoiding her question. A small pout from her and he sighed, shaking his head. "Look, lass, if all goes well today I'll talk to Mercer. That doesn't mean that you're in, though."

"Fine," she pouted. She was rejoicing internally though. This was more than he had offered her before. "So what's the job?"

He gave her the details before depositing her next to Madesi's stall. The old lizard greeted her with a hug, having thought that she had been taken by skooma addicts or worse. She endured the affection while Brynjolf warmed the crowd back up, skillfully distracting Madesi while she relieved him of his keys. She was in and out of his strong-box in seconds before she scurried off to plant the ring and the keys on Brand-Shei. That part was the hardest, since she had never put something _in_ a person's pockets before; she was usually only taking. As soon as she was done, Brynjolf cut off his speech, sending the gathered crowd back on their way. She met him at his stall while he was packing up, flashing him a quick grin. Her heart was thudding in her chest from the rush of the job and she wondered how much better it would feel to have a bigger job to do.

"I missed this," she said as she leaned against one of the walls that supported the awning over head.

"And you can bet that you were missed," he responded as he pocketed the gold that he had made for the day. "Where have you been, lass?"

"Well," Rose said, wondering if it was safe to tell him everything, "I don't think I got any farther than Whiterun. But there are a few days missing from my memory since I was unconscious." Bryn's expression darkened. "I was right, Bryn. Maven wanted me dead. She..." Rose looked around to make sure that no one was listening. Only old Edda was close enough to here anything, and she was clearly out of it on skooma. "She had me sent off to be executed alongside Ulfric Stormcloak. It was only my brilliant luck that got me out of there alive." That, and a man-eating, enormous black dragon. But perhaps _he_ was her luck; her life had certainly improved a great deal since. "And then I had to go to Whiterun to speak to the Jarl and then I had to do an errand for him, and then he made me a Thane and I'm supposed to do some other stuff, but I wanted to come home first."

Brynjolf looked at her as if she had grown another head. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere where you can give the whole story, lass. I tell you what, meet me down in the Flagon later and we can see about making you a full-time member of the family."

Rose beamed at this, giving him a quick hug in spite of her aversion. As he left, she watched the results of her work as Brand-Shei was carted off by the guards towards the dungeons. She would probably never see him again, she wagered. She felt an odd twinge at that, but brushed it off quickly. She had been aspiring all her life to be a professional thief; she couldn't let her conscience get in the way of that. It was only then that she realized that she lost Lydia. Not that it mattered. Her scarcity made it much easier to sneak around the city. But then she saw the woman with a coin purse in hand, standing between Sapphire and Shaddr. She watched in horror as Lydia began counting out coins-- her coins!-- and handing them off the Sapphire. Rose hurried over, hoping that the woman wasn't going to bankrupt her and end her brief existence as a fiscally normal person.

 


End file.
